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Post by Leo/ Clundy on Nov 7, 2023 18:52:43 GMT
River dropped his smile and his expression hardened as well. He didn't break his gaze from Pascal's as they had a silent fight. Wrapping his hands around his empty cup he started fidgeting. His finger tapping the rim of the mug as he decided his next words.
"Avoiding feels like a strong word," he finally uttered with a heavy sigh. He dropped his gaze to his hands around the mug and leaned heavier against the counter, seemingly stretching. "Just drop it," he insisted as he came back to standing.
He probably felt as exhausted as Pascal looked. He was taking care of himself the best that he could. Cleaning the wounds and bandaging them, just like he was used to. Though he slept less and trained often enough to reopen the injuries, he still managed to take time and patch them up. He didn't have the luxury of being back some where he had time in-between fights and jobs to properly rest. Now, he had other people to look after. But, he could take care of himself.
The coffee machine beeped behind him and he turned to grab the pot. Pouring the dark brown liquid into each of their cups, giving Pascal the majority of the coffee as he didn't like the taste all that much. He wrapped his hands around the mug and brought it to his face, not to drink it, but to let the steam rise and caress his face.
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Post by Nari on Nov 7, 2023 19:58:08 GMT
A tension seemed to form between the two boys as River’s expression dropped. The two stared at each other, and Pascal could tell this was something the other champion didn’t want to acknowledge. His silence spoke louder than words.
Another deflection came from River, and Pascal shook his head. Avoiding wasn’t a strong word when that’s exactly what seemed to be going on. He was downplaying his obvious injuries. It made him wonder if he did the same to Lucien, and the boy wasn’t willing to push back on it. He had no idea. The only thing he did know was his patience was waning.
“As a healer, I will not,” the Hades Champion responded, his gaze not wavering even as River went away to get the finished Coffee. The boy brought it over and poured each of them a mug. For a moment his expression lowered at the familiar scent, and took a large drink of the roast. The heat and caffeine helped to stave off some exhaustion, but not all of it.
His attention soon fell back to River as he spoke again, “I’m disappointed.”
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Post by Leo/ Clundy on Nov 7, 2023 20:29:45 GMT
"You wouldn't be the only one," River snapped a little too loudly, sharp gaze looking over the mug he held tightly in hands.
He blinked until his eyes settled on being closed for a second. Squeezing them tightly he took a breath and lowered the coffee mug back onto the counter. "But we're alive. Not much else we can ask for right now," he said quieter. Trying keep his voice even despite the annoyed feeling rising in his chest.
River had to remind himself the Pascal meant no harm. The opposite actually. He just cared and that didn't mean he needed to be snapped at like that. But he wished it was just let go. He didn't want questions asked about how he was doing or feeling. He'd rather just push through it.
"Look, I get it. You're one of our healers. You wanna make sure we're ok," River started quietly and evenly. He opened his eyes and glanced up at Pascal with tired eyes. "But, i'm sure I remember I have the right to refuse treatment."
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Post by Nari on Nov 7, 2023 20:50:08 GMT
River’s response startled Pascal briefly, and his expression wavered slightly. The reaction was harsh, almost as if the questions were backing him into a corner. It would be easier to pull away and do as the other boy said, but he didn’t want to.
No, he refused to. He didn’t go to med school just to be told he shouldn’t help someone. It was bad enough he wasn’t allowed to help the others while in captivity, couldn’t do enough for Haleema, and he was being denied the chance to be useful. It was selfish of him, sure, but the same went for the other boy.
Pascal listened as River spoke, taking in his words with stoicism. He didn’t interrupt and waited for the other boy to say what he wanted, before shaking his head slowly.
“You are within your right, yes. There are many people who would refuse treatment for their own pride, or because they believe they can ‘tough it out’. Those same people end up dead the following week. Do you wish to be dead?”
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Post by Leo/ Clundy on Nov 7, 2023 21:14:56 GMT
A calm smile spread across his lips. But, it didn't reach his eyes. Everything about him stilled as he repeated Pascal's last sentence in his head over and over again. "Would you like me to answer that honestly?" he asked. He raised his eyebrows expectantly then shrugged his shoulders. "Because you won't like the answer."
He chuckled humorlessly and scratched at his neck, carefully to stay just outside of the bandage around his throat. Looking up at ceiling he silently cursed whichever god kept him alive this long. Just to continue having tragic things throw in his face one after the other and deal with itchy half healed wounds. For what? Amusement?
"You're trying to scare me into getting treatment and it's not working. This-" River gestured to his body and chuckled darkly again. "isn't pride or how tough I am, this is acceptance and a reminder," he explained. He dropped his hand to his side and once more slumped against the counter, letting his head hang as he shifted his feet. "I'm tired, i'm tired, i'm tired," he insisted. "But, I have work do do first."
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Post by Nari on Nov 7, 2023 21:39:21 GMT
Pascal’s expression chilled when River gave his answer. He didn’t need to hear the boy say it to understand what he meant. This man wanted to die and he accepted that. He was refusing his help, any help, and tried to pawn his own condition off as ‘fine’.
Rarely did the Champion of Hades feel anger, but in this moment a frozen rage seemed to envelop him. Even the half finished coffee seemed to cool in his hands. It was frustrating, saddening, and all too familiar.
“That Champion of Set told us you were dead,” Pascal said, his voice coming out with more force than he’d expected. His gaze soon lowered, as if trying to keep his emotions under control. “I didn’t believe it, but the others did. They mourned. Echo thought she was calling out to a dead man that night. Now my intuition is being proven correct, and I hear you wishing to make that man right. Is that what you want?”
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Post by Leo/ Clundy on Nov 7, 2023 22:04:20 GMT
Of course he did.
He seemed so confident that River was going to die on that floor he'd just left him there. Though, to his defense, River was hardly coherent and not breathing or moving well. It felt like he had died like everyone thought. It sounded like people expected him to do so. He hasn't really been whole since the event. Just a corpse shambling along playing human.
He glared at Pascal when he brought up Echo and proving Ripley right. How everyone else mourned him believing that asshole as he probably boasted about his death. He remembered Echo's plea over the phone at wanting him. How he wanted to reach through the phone and hug her.
His gaze was steely as he looked between Pascal's eyes. With a raspy angry sigh, he stood up straight, picked up his coffee mug, and started walking. "Guilt is a dirty trick," he growled at Pascal. But, he relented and just lead the way to the infirmary.
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Post by 𝕄𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕪 on Nov 7, 2023 22:36:45 GMT
 
Cleo watched Luka leave, followed by Lucien, and sighed. Of course the two would be pissed, just to add to it, Dillon was mad at them too. Lucien was refusing to heal them, which was annoying but...fair, they guessed.
The downtime did not last, it had been days since they had seen her, but Lane was back. Cleo had been concerned about her, but the girl was much too fast for them to catch or find, and well, the Exiled didn't have her. Cleo had almost assumed she decided to run away from all of this.
No such luck, given the nature of the girl's wounds. They rushed to her side by Dillon, looking back at Guinevere and barking an order, "get Lucien to the medbay!" They ordered.
The teary-eyed girl nodded and rushed off to the intercom to do just that, requesting Lucien to go to the medbay for an emergency. Cleo themselves stared at the girl, eyes wide, "where have you been? What happened to you?" Lane didn't seem much in the ability to answer, but the questions were more rhetorical. What was with this helmet she was closely guarding? Why was she so injured? Where had she been at the entire time.
Still, Cleo helped get the girl to the med bay with Dillon, anxiously awaiting Lucien to heal the girl.
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Post by Nari on Nov 7, 2023 23:16:31 GMT
Pascal’s words finally seemed to get through to River, and his chilling rage seemed to defrost. His shoulders slacked and he allowed himself to finish off his mug of coffee. Slowly he rose from his seat and followed after River, taking the light scolding from the other man.
“I’m aware,” he replied with a softer voice, “but it seemed necessary.” It was apparent that the Ares Champion was hurting outside of his physical injuries, something mentally was stopping him from seeking help. He had pushed hard just for this one thing, it would be tiresome if he had to push any future time.
At some point the intercom blared to life, mentioning an emergency. His brow furrowed, and by the time they made it to the infirmary, it was apparent why. Someone else was fairly injured, for what reason he wasn’t sure. Unfortunately it meant the room wasn’t as private as he was expecting.
He didn’t know how River would feel about other people being in the room, and Pascal himself didn’t want to lose focus from the boy. So he quickly stepped into the room, grabbed some supplies he knew he’d need, and made his way back out. In a low voice, he whispered, “we’ll go to my room instead. Less people around.”
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Post by Leo/ Clundy on Nov 7, 2023 23:38:27 GMT
He didn't follow when Pascal slipped into the room to grab some supplies. He didn't bother to say he had some supplies still in his own room either figuring it'd be better for the actual doctor to get what he knew he'd need. Absentmindedly, he took a sip from the coffee he brought with him while he waited and immediately made a face. He didn't even know why he brought it with him. Perhaps because it was warm?
River nodded when Pascal said they'd go to his room for some privacy. He was happy with the suggestion and knowing that they were going to be away from other people. Away from prying eyes and questions. Though he had questions of his own about who was suddenly being rushed to the infirmary and needing to call Lucien. His curiosity wasn't strong enough to stick around and find out this time though.
River followed Pascal to his room in the Greek wing. He knew which door was his, having seen it enough times all these months. Walking up upon it River broke the silence and glanced at the other man next to him. "This doesn't mean I'm going to let you not get checked out either," he warned. His voice was gentler though still annoyed with being roped into this situation. "I know they weren't kind to you or anyone there."
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Post by pallas on Nov 7, 2023 23:48:50 GMT
Lucien had scarcely got to the door of his room when Guinevere’s voice came ringing over the intercom, calling him to the Medbay for an emergency.
If this was some trick by Cleo to get him to heal their goddamn nose, as if they were the only person in the world to take a freaking punch-
But he had to respond. It was Guinevere calling, after all, and she sounded genuinely concerned. This had to be a real emergency. So Lucien took off down the hallways, shortly thereafter arriving at the Medbay.
Chiara was just leaving after dropping off some extra supplies, but Dillon and Cleo were standing around a bed. As he approached, the figure on the bed became visible to him.
He almost stopped in his tracks.
It was Lane. Seriously injured, bleeding, and clutching something. A helmet, it looked like as he got closer.
”Get out, please. I need space.“ Lucien told Dillon, who obeyed him immediately. He didn’t order Cleo out. He might need the extra hand and the supplies for Cleo’s nose were im there anyway.
He tried to take the helmet from Lane’s hands so he could assess her more easily without it getting in the way, but when he did she tightened her grip and started protesting noisily and with some distress. Not coherent words, but her grip was vicelike and she was obviously serious about keeping hold of it and so Lucien did not make any further attempts to take it.
He sighed, pulling off his jacket and putting it over the back of a nearby chair so he just had his t-shirt on. No zippers or anything to get in the way or long sleeves to contend with.
He assessed her more closely this time, deciding there was nothing that he needed to do before he healed her. No bones to set, nothing like that. So he laid his hand on Lane’s shoulder, putting his free hand on the bed to keep him stable, and closed his eyes.
The pain healing her was intense and came from all over his body. A sharp pain like his body was being sliced and cut in many places. He let out a choked cry. Eventually the pain subsided, and Lucien caught a ragged and shaky breath as he opened his eyes.
Lane was no longer freshly bleeding, the wounds closed up. She made a relieved sound, presumably at her own pain being gone, and her breathing already seemed more regular.
However, she’d lost a lot of blood, and so he knew he’d have to repeat the process he did for Luka. Attach an IV. Lane’s situation was not quite as dire as Luka’s had been in terms of the catastrophic damage Fenrir had caused, but she still needed help. Thankfully doing the process a second time was not nearly as difficult and he soon had Lane attached to an IV drip.
Sighing, he pulled up a seat next to Lane’s bed, grabbed one for Cleo too so they could join him if they wanted. Lane was still not well by any means but by the time Lucien had healed her and attached an IV she already seemed to be looking a little better. Less in pain if not less groggy. And certainly less likely to pass out.
The boy’s eye was caught by Lane’s necklace, where two of the bluish beads had turned white. He’d have to ask questions about that, but honestly he had so many more questions that needed to be answered first.
”Lane, what happened?“ Lucien found himself asking.
”Styx,” the girl murmured groggily.
Lucien’s jaw tightened. He could hear her laughter echoing in his head, remember her taunting him. He hated her. Of course she’d done this, he should’ve recognised her handiwork.
But how on earth had she managed to end up facing Styx?
”What? What do you mean, where the hell have you been?”
”I went…the Underworld,” Lane’s next murmur came out, though she did start to push herself gingerly up into a sitting position, so she seemed to gradually be becoming a little more alert. She’d still need rest, though, soon.
The Apollo champion shared a glance with Cleo. This wasn’t making sense. Perhaps she was delirious?
_____
CHARACTER PROFILE IMAGE CREDIT: ElenaA via Picrew
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Post by 𝕄𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕪 on Nov 8, 2023 0:21:56 GMT
Cleo was tense as they entered the medical room and as Lane was sat down. Guinevere luckily did make the announcement, and soon Lucien did arrive. Surprisingly, he chose to have Cleo remain with him and sent Dillon away. Cleo knew the boy was mad at them, and honestly they couldn't blame him. Still, their patience was very thin. Their nose was still throbbing, and they knew they'd have to set the damn thing here soon unless they wanted to remain crooked-nosed forever.
Still, Lane was a much larger priority. Exhausted and in pain still, they remained silent as Lucien healed the girl. However, they were shocked to see her have enough strength to protect the helmet she had taken from wherever she went.
When the boy healed Lane, Cleo debated helping stabilize him, but decided against it. He needed his space from them right then, and they knew it. They could tell. Instead they looked at the girl, the exhausted and obviously recovering girl, and they felt a swirl of annoyance, anger, and concern. Lane's...whatever she'd done had not only gotten herself injured, but it had put Chiara, Ariella, Theo, and Luka at risk.
As Lucien began questioning Lane, Cleo listened carefully, looking around the room. They froze as they saw a shadow fall over part of the floor, moving quickly and sharply, Cleo couldn't even identify what the shadow looked like, because at that angle it looked like a blob skittering about on the floor. Cleo looked up at the doorway, trying to see what or who had caused it, but breathed a sigh or relief when they spotted nothing there.
It was just paranoia. There was nothing there. They were just letting...everything get to them. Seeing shadows where they weren't.
They looked back at Lane when she said where she'd been, eyebrows screwing into a confused scrunch. What did she mean the underworld?
"What do you mean you've been in the underworld?" Cleo asked, confused and concerned. Was the girl concussed? "This...now's a really bad time for one of your jokes Lane. Where have you actually been? What...how did Styx do this to you?" They paused and glanced at the object Lane was cradling in confusion, "and...and what is that thing?"
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Post by Nari on Nov 8, 2023 0:33:25 GMT
As the two walked, Pascal stared ahead intently. He checked mental boxes in his head, making sure he had everything and wasn’t going to suddenly forget what he’d need to do once he got River to sit down. Soon his focus was broken by River speaking up, telling him he also should get looked at. In response he simply nodded his head.
The other boy was correct, he wouldn’t deny it. He knew he wasn’t healthy, but he knew he was at least ok for the time being. Outright turning down help would make him a hypocrite.
“They weren’t kind,” He mumbled, “though I believe I got off easy compared to others.”
Easy in that he wasn’t bothered as much and didn’t seem interesting to his captors. They’d believed Esme’s story about who his guide was, and he didn’t dare contradict her. She told him it was safer for the both of them this way, and to some extent, she was correct.
When they finally made it to his door, Pascal hesitated. An anxious feeling stirred inside him, imagining the other boy’s reaction at how he kept the space. The lack of order, the mess, papers crumpled and thrown about. Paper trash that had been left to fill up because he couldn’t be bothered to change it.
A space he felt close to but also embarrassed by. A peak into his brain he never felt ready to share.
He took a deep breath and gestured River inside. The room was just as he’d left it. Messy, cluttered, and very much different than how the infirmary was. Decorations and statues relating to the underworld lay covered in shirts and clothing. The desk in the corner spilled paper onto the floor and garbage can. His bed looked like it hadn’t been set since they got there.
Pascal wadded through the room, pushing paper and clothes out of his way as he led River to one of the cleaner parts of the room. That part of the room contained a small table set, with a few chairs and a centerpiece that had a 3 headed dog on top. He cleared off one of the chairs so the other boy could sit down, and set what he was carrying onto the table top.
“I need to sanitize first,” Pascal said, his head tilting in the direction of the bathroom, “just, wait for me to do that. And don’t touch anything.”
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Post by pallas on Nov 8, 2023 1:13:32 GMT
Lucien watched as Lane drowned when Cleo didn’t believe her, asking the girl where she really was. The blue-haired girl shook her head.
”I told you, the Underworld.” Lane insisted. ”I left a note explaining everything, did nobody read it? Styx was there”
There had never been a note, as far as Lucien was aware. Perhaps it had been misplaced or she was confused and she’d never written one at all. But then Cleo was asking about the helmet, and Lane’s gaze strayed toward the helmet in her grip.
”The Helm of Hades.” Lane replied. ”I went to the Underworld to find something that might help get the others back. Even just some information. This, it makes you invisible, impossible to detect. I wouldn’t have gotten out of the Underworld without it.”
Lucien shook his head in disbelief and shock.
”How… how could you even go to the Underworld?” Lucien questioned.
”Hermes is one of the few gods who can travel freely between this realm and that one.” Lane explained ”He’s the god of boundaries, the psychopomp.”
Her hand, as she spoke, strayed to her necklace. Her key.
The picture was making more sense, but Lucien was still confused. And admittedly a little angry about one detail which had to be addressed.
”You abandoned the mission.” Lucien pointed out. ”People almost died. That’s not okay.”
Luka had almost died, specifically. That he was not okay with. Would never be.
Lane did look guilty at that, her expression pained. ”I’m sorry, I really am” the girl continued. ”As I said I wrote a note explaining it all, I just felt like there were answers in the Underworld and I had to go and find them. I was the only one who could. And I did, the Helm could be massive for helping retrieve the others. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I had just wanted to be useful.”
_____
CHARACTER PROFILE IMAGE CREDIT: ElenaA via Picrew
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Post by Leo/ Clundy on Nov 8, 2023 2:23:57 GMT
River looked around the room, his expression changing to mild interest at the state of it. Seems he wasn't the only one that lived in a messy room. He couldn't judge the clothes thrown over furniture or paper splayed out around the floor. He had weapons and clothes covering his room too.
He didn't notice Pascal's nerves about having someone else in the room, but he also didn't bring it up. He wouldn't want someone bringing up the state of his room to him either. It was his business and his alone. River was just a temporary guest. So he sat where he was told to and nodded when Pascal said he needed to wash. "Sure," he agreed and busied himself with his injured hand.
He let the room fill with silence as he poked and prodded his own limbs. Testing where the majority of the pain was today. It seemed his middle and ring finger twitched when he applied the smallest amount of pressure to his palm, shooting pain signals to to brain to stop. Then he moved on to his arms and abdomen. Still sore and raw. He didn't need to bother with his throat or face but found his hand going there anyway.
"Since we're being honest, how are you holding up?" River suddenly asked glancing towards where Pascal had gone. His eyes then drifted towards the memorabilia of death covered in discarded shirts and clothing. A stark reminder of who Pascal's guide is. "You seem freaked out when you came back."
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